


Laundry Day

by slashxmistress



Category: Bandom, Panic At The Disco
Genre: M/M, Masturbation, Other
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2008-07-11
Updated: 2008-07-11
Packaged: 2017-10-21 06:00:21
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/221716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/slashxmistress/pseuds/slashxmistress
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Totally self-indulgent PWP in which Ryan does a load of laundry.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Laundry Day

Ryan had been home for three days before he got around to unpacking his bag.

By unpacking, I mean unceremoniously dumping the contents out onto a chair in his bedroom while searching for that scarf he bought in Paris (which he never found).

And that is where they stayed. Until the day Ryan stepped out of the shower, dripping water onto the floor and looking puzzled at the lack of wearable clothes in his closet.

Sighing, he slipped on the least offensive pair of pants he could find and scooped up the rest of the clothes, heading for the laundry room.

While haphazardly sorting and throwing clothes into the washer, he pulled out a shirt that didn't belong to him.

"Brendon" he sighed, instantly recognizing the soft, maroon button-down he held in his hands. All tour long, they practically lived in each other's pockets. It would probably be stranger if they didn't come away with some of each other's stuff. But still...

Ryan paused, bringing the shirt to his face and inhaling deep, and suddenly, he was overwhelmed with the scent of Brendon. It was a heady smell that caused his cock to twitch in his pants. He shook his head but couldn't dislodge the image of the last time he'd seen this shirt, hanging open on Brendon's body and barely covering the planes of his chest and stomach as he brushed by Ryan on the way to the bus bathroom.

Ryan had held his breath, fighting not to let the effect Brendon had on him show. Luckily, Brendon could be oblivious. He was never aware of what he did to Ryan with his constant touching and his casual nudity.

Now, standing in his laundry room with no one to judge or discover his secret weakness, he pulled Brendon's shirt on his own body. The material was soft and snug across his shoulders, and he was enveloped with the scent of Brendon. Images arose unbidden of Brendon dancing gleefully around on stage. Brendon, stepping out of the shower, droplets of water clinging to his throat, sliding down his perfectly chiseled torso and continuing on in a journey Ryan's tongue would love to take.

Leaning back against the washer, Ryan rubbed one long-fingered hand across the growing bulge in his pants, rubbing until his hand was burning and the friction wasn't enough, before opening the button on his pants and tugging them down just enough to free his aching and leaking cock. He began stroking slowly as the images kept coming.

Brendon bent over to get something from the fridge, shaking his phenomenal ass to some tune inside his head.

Stroke, stroke, stroke.

Brendon, in nothing but boxers hanging halfway out of his bunk.

Stroke, stroke, stroke.

He began to pick up the pace, absently sucking on his fingers as he thought of Brendon, lost in concentration at the piano, his head tilted back, his face rapt. He felt the pull deep in his balls as he sucked harder, then reached down to tease his entrance with spit-slick fingers, tiny jagged moans coming with every breath.

He began to stroke harder, rocking his hips into every stroke. His head was thrown back, mouth hanging open, breathing erratic and strained. The finest sheen of sweat was shimmering across his throat, long and exposed, and down across his belly as he ran a thumb across the slit of his dick and shuddered from the touch. He knew he wouldn't last very long, with all the overload of _Brendon_ all around him. He was so, so close. The images were coming faster.

Brendon eating chicken with his fingers then licking the juices from his fingers one by one, his lips shiny and decadent. "Ohhhhhh, Jesus." Ryan would die for a taste of those lips. And then...

Brendon on his knees before Ryan, staring into Ryan's eyes with his own eyes dark, pupils blown wide, and licking those lucious lips as he leaned forward and..

"Nnnnghhhh ohhhhhhhh fuck! Fuck! Brendon!" Ryan cried out as his orgasm ripped through him, keeping his hand steady as cum shot out from his body in rope after rope. "A cumshot worthy of a porn star" was his blissed-out thought as his knees buckled and he slid to the floor.

 

Meanwhile, in an apartment across town, Brendon lied tangled in a silk scarf, moaning Ryan's name. But _that_ is another story.

ETA:[download the video that inspired this \o/](http://www.mediafire.com/?myzuuivmzhj)  
and the shirt:  
[](http://s23.photobucket.com/albums/b387/ursadiana/?action=view&current=brendon_5_Large.jpg)

**Author's Note:**

> Now with a companion fic from Brendon's POV!!  
> [Tangled Up In Blue (And Thinking of You)](http://archiveofourown.org/works/245435) by Scarletvirtue (hiddenmuse)


End file.
